


Wonderful Tonight

by UnaghKunn



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: F/M, Foreplay, Lots of Sex, Sex, Stripping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-28
Updated: 2013-03-28
Packaged: 2017-12-06 18:52:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/738976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnaghKunn/pseuds/UnaghKunn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anything can happen in the City of Miracles, or so they say. Including two people who love each other coming together to share their passion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wonderful Tonight

**Wonderful Tonight**

“I must thank you, Emmy, for granting me the privilege of dancing with you,” Layton said in a low voice as Emmy unlocked her room at the hotel in Monte d’Or. “Truly, your grace is a pleasure to watch.”

Emmy smiled, laughing softly. “You weren’t too bad out there yourself, Professor,” she replied, turning her attention away from the now opened door to gently fiddle with the Professor’s tie. “And you clean up nicely too, in that white-tie tuxedo of yours.”

Layton chuckled, tipping his hat. “A true gentleman must always take care over his appearance.”

Emmy held her room door open behind her, waiting for the Professor to step in. Luke had long since been put to bed after a harrowing chase at the party. The Masked Gentleman had escaped, but… some clues had been left behind at least. Emmy and Layton had sat with him until he had fallen asleep, telling stories, the soft rumbling of the Professor’s voice lulling the young boy into slumber. Carefully, the two had slipped out of the room, to say their goodnights without wakening Luke.

Layton hesitated. “Emmy, I’m not sure how… proper… such an invitation would seem…” He furrowed his brows, fidgeting with his hat. Emmy shook her head, still smiling.

“At least let me make you a cup of tea, Professor,” she laughed softly.

The Professor sighed, but nodded his agreement, returning her smile. “I suppose, after all, a true gentleman can never refuse the wishes of a lady.”

Emmy just dipped her head, concealing a chuckle as she lifted a tea caddy to inhale its scent. The Professor quietly closed the door behind him, watching Emmy move.

Deciding that her chosen tea was just right, she set the caddy down beside the tea service, briefly disappearing to fill her kettle at the ensuite.

“Please, do sit down, Professor. It shouldn’t be long,” Emmy gestured to a sofa by the window, and Layton tipped his hat.

“Thank you, my dear.”

Emmy just nodded as she quickly went through her suitcase, tugging out what looked like a pair of fleecy pajamas. “If you’ll excuse me,” she grinned, almost sheepishly, and then disappeared once more into the ensuite, locking the door behind her.

Layton turned to glance out of the large window behind the sofa. Lights blinked and twinkled, and – despite being a little bit away from the main street – the bass notes of music filtered into the room. How anyone could live with such noise, he wondered silently, barely noticing the kettle boiling in the background, and Emmy’s return in her pajamas. She padded over to him silently.

“So,” Emmy said as if the conversation hadn’t stopped, “milk and sugar in your tea, Professor?”

“Ah—“ The Professor looked up. Fleecy trousers covered Emmy’s bottom half, and a tank top that didn’t leave much to the imagination was all that covered her torso. He cleared his throat, trying to recover from the sudden shock of exposure to her cleavage. “Ahem. Yes. Milk and sugar. Please.”

Emmy’s smile almost read as if she had realized his reaction. Layton tugged his hat over his eyes. Oh dear. How embarrassing!

Still, she didn’t seem to be bothered, and instead went about making tea. “I really enjoyed that party earlier, you know,” Emmy remarked as she spooned some loose-leaves into the teapot. “Even if we did end up chasing down the Masked Gentleman – it’s been a long while since I had a chance to dance like that.”

Layton smiled slightly, glad for the change of topic. “Yes, I must say, I rarely have occasion to dance either.”

Emmy seemed to stare into the distance, smiling as she remembered the various elements of the evening. “The music. The masks. The costumes. Dancing as if floating on a dream!”

The Professor chuckled, his voice rumbling softly. “Sharing the experience,” he said as he got to his feet, “with a beautiful lady.”

“And with a true gentleman,” Emmy added warmly, leaning slightly to rest against Layton as he stood behind her. Layton glanced down at her, tilting his head to one side, and then – with a brief hesitation, wrapped an arm around her. Emmy’s hand came to rest over his, her other hand twining fingers with his free hand.

“Then there’s this,” she murmured, closing her eyes. “A perfect end to an evening…”

Layton’s breath caught in his throat, briefly unsure how to respond. “I…. I’m happy you feel that way,” he said deliberately, thinking as he spoke. Was it spending time together that she thought was perfect? Was it the embrace? He wondered. He felt her posture shifting slightly, and then, as she brushed against him, he bit on his lip, the movement awakening something inside of him.

“Emmy…” he whispered. Surely she could feel the growing bulge at his loins as she leaned back against him. This was a bit of an embarrassing situation to be in. Already, a sort of tension had started sprouting within him at the sight of her rather low-cut top, but he had attempted to discipline it by focusing his mind elsewhere. Now, though, the physical reaction could not be stopped, and – it actually kind of ached a little.

“Ssssh,” she replied softly. “It’s ok. I know.” Emmy raised Layton’s free hand, leading him down past the elastic of her pajamas, to the mound between her legs. The panties covering her were already slightly damp with her juices, and Layton found it suddenly hard to breathe.

“Emmy…” His voice was huskier, breathless, lower. “I…” He leaned his face into her hair, as if hiding his burning cheeks, and then laughed softly. “Oh, Emmy, I never thought—“

Emmy lightly rubbed her thumb along the hand that was resting over her mons. Layton instinctively stroked along her sensitive flesh, and she moaned softly, leaning in.

“How long has it been, Emmy?” Layton asked quietly.

“Ever since we met, that day at Scotland Yard,” Emmy replied breathlessly. “I worked so hard to find you, Professor…”

Layton nodded. “I’ll admit my own feelings began to… blossom, shall we say, after our return from Misthallery. Your capability and confidence aroused some emotion within that I never thought I would feel again.”

Emmy gently squeezed the hand that was resting over her belly. “I know. I’ve always known.” She smiled, nuzzling him softly. “I was just waiting for you to realize.”

“In that case,” Layton leaned forward, as if trying to bow. “I truly apologize for the wait.” His voice dropped as his thumb rolled over her clit, and Emmy gasped aloud. “Please, allow me to make amends, my dear.”

“With pleasure,” Emmy laughed softly as Layton tugged her just a little closer, planting a kiss atop her head, before releasing her. With the loss of his warmth around her, a slight chill ran up Emmy’s spine – but it was difficult to remain cold when she noticed that his top hat was sitting on her dresser, that he had just taken off his jacket and laid it over a chair, and that he was now going for his tie.

“Allow me, Professor,” Emmy bit her lip, hiding a grin.

“Of course,” Layton acquiesced.

Emmy’s hands worked deftly, removing the bow tie, before attacking the buttons. Layton’s arms slid around her waist, carefully slipping down to her rear. Then, she was half leaning, half sitting, on the dresser, and her mouth was on his and his hands slid southward, and Emmy leaned back to allow her pajama pants and underwear to fall to the floor, and then Layton’s hand was between her legs, feeling, touching, rubbing…

As she worked his belt, Layton slowly trailed kisses down her neck, to her chest and back up to allow Emmy to push his trousers down, his boxers moving with them, freeing him from the restrictive, last traces of clothing. Layton slid Emmy’s top off, exposing the rest of her body to the cooler night air.

By now, Emmy’s want had turned into an ache, a need for fulfilment, for climax. The Professor was breathing heavily as he held her close in an embrace, rubbing her back, and she slipped her arms around him to hold him.

At last, Layton spoke up, his voice serious but gentle. “Are you sure this is what you want, my dear?”

Emmy looked up him, briefly surprised, and then smiled radiantly. “Professor, of course it’s what I want. The question is – do you want it?”

There was a pause, and then the Professor smiled back, nodding. “It would be a privilege, and a pleasure.”

Emmy gently squeezed him around the waist, and then shifted a hand down to his erect member, pumping the shaft. Layton almost went weak at the knees at the sensation, and didn’t see her movement as she procured, as if from nowhere, a condom packet, which she opened, carefully sliding the sheath down his cock.

“Because a true lady is always prepared,” Emmy grinned mischievously at Layton’s surprised expression. He shook his head and chuckled.

“Truly, you are full of surprises,” Layton said as Emmy lay back, lifting her legs into the air, spreading them to allow him access. He carefully guided his being, and slowly shifted inside of her. Emmy let loose a hiss of breath – at last, that sensation of completion, of his hardness filling her. He adjusted with a quick slide back, gaining another cry.

“Professor!” Emmy moaned, grappling at the edge of the dresser. Layton rested his hands on her legs, pulling her towards him slightly, before finally rolling back in.

Before long, Emmy was pushing in response to his thrusts, holding herself steady by holding on to the edge of the dresser. As he caressed her innards with quick strokes, something was stoked within her, a sensation almost like a fire being raised from heat to sparks to a smoulder. Layton seemed to be feeling it as well, his movements growing faster in accordance with hers, sweat beading on his forehead.

Then, the fire flashed from a single flame, to a blazing inferno, and Emmy cried out. Layton kept moving, and then, with one last thrust into her contractions, he finally erupted within her, spilling into the barrier between their organs, leaning into her for support, resting against her.

 It was several minutes before either could think or speak again.

“I….” The Professor was the first to speak, gently rubbing her leg where he was holding on to her. “Emmy, do you feel alright?”

Emmy took a deep breath, and then nodded, a bright smile warming her expression. It had certainly been different from what she had expected – Layton had been a much more… passionate man in his expression of his feelings, and she had been amazed by his conviction in doing so… as well as the feelings he had stoked within her. She reached her hands up, and Layton took hold of them, squeezing gently.

“Darling,” Emmy whispered almost reverently, “I feel wonderful tonight.”

**END**


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